Massacre: Dylan Klebold
by Coffe Skulls
Summary: Disclaimer: I do not condone the actions of Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris on 4/20/99. This is simply what I imagine would happen if those boys had someone they could talk to. Have a shoulder to cry on. Anyways, enjoy!
1. Chapter One

_August 10, 1998_

 _So...today is the day. It's the day I've been dreading for weeks on end, waiting impatiently, and just wanting it to come and get it over with. That's right, it's the first day of school. Senior year can suck my invisible cock. I'll write again tomorrow, I need to get ready. -Scarlett_

With that, I closed my journal and threw the covers off of myself. My feet hit the floor, the boards softly creaking beneath them as I walked to my bathroom. I grabbed my toothbrush and sluggishly brushed my teeth. I examined my face in the mirror. It was the same reflection I saw every day, but today felt different. New school, new me maybe? No.

I grabbed a brush that was halfheartedness strewn on my counters and began to brush the tangles from my curly red hair. I quickly teased it and began to do my dark eye makeup and bloody red lips. Just as I was finishing, my mom called for me downstairs,"Scar, hurry it up! You don't want to be late in the first day!"

I rolled my eyes and screamed back,"I know! I'll be down in a minute!" Quickly, I threw on my fishnet tights and long sleeved black dress that stopped mid-thigh.

I ran down the stairs and out the door, grabbing my black combat boots and backpack on the way. The walk to school was silent and peaceful. Soon the walls of the school loomed over me. I paused to look at the building, before sighing and walking inside dejectedly. I can't imagine why anyone would want to be here right now.

I quickly went to the office to get my schedule, wanting to get the day over as quickly as possible. The old woman at the front desk handed me my schedule and I headed off to my class.

Lunch was uneventful, and I got bored, so I made an executive decision to skip the rest of the day.

Just as I walked out of the front gates, I was stopped by a voice. "Ditching already?" the voice said, clearly belonging to a boy. "It's the first day, why don't you be a good girl and get to class?"

I scoffed and turned in the boys direction. He was a boy a few inches taller than me with blonde hair cropped close to his scalp. "Excuse me? You're one to talk. Class just started back and you're out here. A tad bit hypocritical of you, don't you think?" I replied, my arms crossed. He chuckled and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

I was tempted to ask him for one, but I didn't risk it. We appeared to be on unfriendly terms at the moment. I turned on my heels and began to walk away, but stopped when he called out for me.

"You want one?" The boy asked, holding out another cigarette. I hesitated, but eventually decided that my urge to smoke was more important than hanging around some cynical asshole. I walked over to him slowly and took it from his fingers, him taking a lighter in the other hand and burning both of our ends.

I took a drag, immediately feeling better and more relaxed. I turned and the blonde boy was doing the same. It was at this moment when I realized something very important,"This kid looks like Peter Murphy."

"Huh?" He said. Oh shit, I said that out loud. "Peter Murphy? Isn't he that singer for Bathouse?" He questioned. "It's actually called Bauhaus, but yeah," I corrected,"They're great."

He brought the cigarette to his lips for another drag. "I've heard of them. Not really my shit. I'm more into industrial." I perked up when I heard this. "You like industrial?"

"Yeah, you listen to any good industrial bands?"

I quickly responded,"Yeah. Skinny Puppy, Front Line Assembly, Nine Inch Nails. That's some of the best music out there!"

"You like Nine Inch Nails?" He asked, seemingly surprised. "Hell yeah I do! Trent Reznor is a goddamn king!" The boy smiled to himself. "You're not as stupid as I thought. Since you're ditching, wanna hang with me and a friend of mine? We're gonna head to my place and watch movies."

I thought for a moment and asked,"Will there be booze?" He chuckled,"Yes, booze will be present. You coming or what?"

"Yeah I'm coming."

 **Hello friends! Thank you for reading my story. Disclaimer: I do not condone what occurred at Columbine on 4/20/99. This is simply what I believe might have happened if the two shooters had a friend, a shoulder to cry on.**


	2. Chapter Two

By the time we'd reached his house it was already 12:30. He took his sweet time getting us there. The boy pulled up into a nice house, with no other cars in the driveway. We stepped out of his car and wakes up to the door and knocked. I thought it was odd, shouldn't he have a key to get in?

Moments later, the door opened to reveal a boy our age. His wavy blonde hair fell down the the nape of his neck and he wore a black Rammstein shirt. His fair cheeks were tinted pink, so I'd assumed he'd cracked into the drinks before his friend had returned.

"About time you got back Reb, I was getting impatient," the boy at the door said. He paused to glance over at me."Who's this?"

"I'm Scarlett,"I said,"And I guess I'll be hanging with you guys today." The Reb kid walked into his house, and motioned for me to follow. I stepped through the entryway and closed the door softly behind me.

"He's Dylan by the way."

I nodded and followed the boys upstairs. "Reb's" room was fairly plain, but I was only interested in the bottles of alcohol sitting on his covers. I immediately took off running towards them, grabbing a bottle a liquor and taking a big gulp. The boys exchanged shocked glances with each other.

"What?" I muttered after I had finished chugging the burning liquid,"I like my alcohol."

Dylan chuckled and walked over next to me, grabbing the bottle of vodka next to my leg and uncapping it. "What movie are watching?" he asked his friend still at the doorway.

"Well I'm sorta in the mood for The Craft," I suggested. "Heh, fucking goth," Reb said. I placed my hand on my heart, faking offense. "How dare you! I'm am not goth," I placed a finger on my chin,"I am as normal as is gets. Super straight edge."

The room was silent for a moment before it erupted with laughter coming from all of us. Reb, who found out a little later that his name is Eric, put in the movie. We boozed and laughed, not really paying attention to the film playing on Eric's boxy T.V. screen.

Three bottles of Jack later and I was hammered. Eric was passed out in his bathroom, and Dylan seemed completely normal. The only indication that he'd even had a drop was the slight blush on his face. Damn, he could drink.

"Hey, hey you," I slurred to Dylan. He faced me with a cocked eyebrow."You..are...you're a giant," I cooed. In my drunken state, I thought that was the funniest thing ever and rolled off the bed laughing.

I stayed there for a moment, awkwardly lying on the soft carpet of Eric's bedroom. Eventually, I gained the resolve to stand up. Even in my drunken stupor , I knew I'd have to get up at some point. I was bored and needed some for of entertainment. "Hey, hey Dylan!"

"Yeah?" He responded, slightly annoyed by my drunken antics. "I'm bored," I drawled out. "Um, do you maybe want to listen to some music?" Dylan asked softly.

I nodded erratically, happy with his proposition. He stood up and went over to a stereo sitting on Eric's wooden desk, pulling out a CD and placing it in. Antichrist Superstar by Marilyn Manson began pumping throughout the room.

"I love this song!" I exclaimed, not slurring as much anymore. I swayed my hips a little bit and danced to the tune. I could feel Dylan's eyes on me, so I grabbed his wrists and pulled him in.

"Dance with me Dyldo!" I shouted over the song. He adamantly shook his head, still being drug along. I rolled my heavily painted eyes and moved his arms up and down, trying to get him into it.

Eventually, he started moving on his own, rocking back and forth on his heels in an attempt to get into the music with me. I wildly danced around, screaming the lyrics occasionally.

It was safe to say that I was having a goddamn ball.

By the next verse he was dancing as crazily as I was. That was a sight to see. From someone else's perspective, it must have looked like an elephant parading next to a rat. At some point I got too tired and lied on the bed. "You, my friend," I panted, out of breath,"need to dance more."

Dylan sat next to me. "You," he said, mimicking my tone,"need to get some sleep. You like you're about to pass out." I turned on the sheets and relaxed.

He was right. I felt as if I had just ingested a few hundred milligrams of sleeping medication. In other words, I felt like shit. The mattress shifted beneath me and the covers were lifted over my limp form.

"Sleep well Scarlett," I heard someone say in the room. I was too drunk and too sleepy to tell who, but I followed their instructions and passed out seconds later.


	3. Chapter Three

The moment I woke up, I was bombarded with the sensation of being smacked in face with a brick over and over. The pounding inside my skull was pulverizing my sight to the point of seeing black spots.

"Oh fuck," I moaned in pain. I've had hangovers before, but none so agonizing as this one. What even happened last night? I looked under the covers and saw that I was fully clothed. Okay...so no sexy time happened, got it. I turned around to the other side of the bed just to make sure I was alone. No one.

I sighed and turned around again. I needed to get back to my house...where am I again? What time is it? Fuck, now I know why mom said to never drink. My legs felt like led, but I managed to stand up.

All the blood seemed to rush to my head and stumbled forward and onto the ground, landing with a thud. A groan sounded from floor next to me. Oh yeah, I was with the Peter Murphy look-alike and Gigantor last night.

It seems I've woken up the beast. i.e. Dylan. He shifted and mumbled,"What the hell?" It was so quiet that it was almost inaudible. I winced when I realized that I'd stumbled into him.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," I whispered groggily, trying not to wake Eric. I'm pretty sure that he's still passed out in the bathroom. As best as I could, I stood up and made my towards the door.

"It's okay, really," he said softly,"I needed to get up anyways." Dylan followed my lead and stood up. It still shocks me that a person could be that tall. A yawn escaped my lips,"I'd better get walking. My mom will freak if I'm not home when she wakes up."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Walk? It's what, four in the morning? Besides, by the time you get home it'll probably be time for school." I crossed my arms in front of myself.

"No, I can walk," I disagreed. Stubbornness was something I spoke very fluently. "Really?" Dylan continued,"Where do you live then?"

"9362 Cougar Road," I replied, knowing I'd been backed into a corner. "That only proves my point," he stated,"We live on the same street, which is about a 30 minute drive from here. Two hours if you decide to walk." Yikes.

I sighed dejectedly and accepted his offer. Dylan curled his lips into the smallest victory smirk. He walked over to Eric's desk and grabbed his car keys.

Silently, we walked down the stairs, careful not to risk waking the boys parents. We crawled into Eric's car and began the quiet drive to my house. I won't lie, I dozed a little bit.

I woke again when I felt a large hand on my shoulder, gently shaking it. "Hey, we're here. You've got to get out." I groaned, not wanting to move. It was so warm..."Scarlett," Dylan said a little louder,"You need to get ready for school."

"Shut up mom,"I murmured, but began unbuckling myself. My bag was left in the car yesterday, so I just grabbed it and opened the door.

I stepped out but stopped when Dylan spoke up,"Hey, do you maybe want a ride to school? Since we the live on the same street and all..."he trailed off. "Really? That would be great. I'll have some extra time to get ready for class."

I smiled at him a little bit and shut the door. I trekked up to the door and pulled the key from my boot and unlocked the door. Dylan drove off once he saw I was inside.

As quietly as I could, I went up to my room. Careful not to make any noise, I opened the door and set my bag down by my bed.

My tired form fell onto my mattress, sighing and trying to gain the motivation to move. Eventually, I gave up and decided I'd just sleep a bit. My alarm would be going off in a bit anyways so why not take advantage of the situation?

Of course, my luck ran out as soon as I thought that. My small bedside alarm began blaring loudly, finally managing to jar my nerves. I quickly slammed the snooze button and walked over to my closet. I stripped out of yesterday's clothing and glanced at the mirror attached to the wardrobe door. God, here we go again.

My morning routine has officially begun. The norm of picking out every single flaw on my flesh was a daily chore that came naturally to me. My thighs are too big. My stomach isn't small enough. My breasts are too large. My arms aren't slim enough. My skin is too pale. My hair is too curly. My entire body is just disgusting. To most people I appear normal, but normal just isn't good enough for me.

I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks, and I quickly tried to wipe them away. All that did was smudge my already smeared makeup. Not wanting to look at the grotesque monster that I saw reflecting back at me, I closed that door.

I hurriedly grabbed my black tank-top and jeans in the same color. I made sure to wear my sliver crescent moon necklace. In the bathroom, I proceeded with the rest of my routine, removing my old makeup and redoing my hair. I speedily reapplied my makeup and progressed downstairs to the kitchen.

My mother was putting on a pot of coffee. Thank god, that's just what I need right now. "Morning Scar."

I sat at the breakfast table, not bothering to get any food. I lie my head down on the side of the table. A mug was set down in front of me. "Didn't sleep well?" She asked, pouring her own cup of the wonderful drink. Her chair was pulled out and she sat down beside me.

"No, not well at all," I muttered before taking a sip. The coffee warmed my throat, sliding down with ease. I already felt better.

"Where did you go last night? I didn't hear you come home last night." Mom asked, giving me a stern look. Shit. Shit! Think of something! Think of something!I paused for a moment before speaking up,"I stayed at a friends house last night. It got late, so we decided that I should just stay there." I purposely forgot to mention the fact that the "friend" was actually two classmates that offered me the opportunity to get completely shit-faced.

She seemed to believe it and nodded her head. "My boss said I need to stay after work today, so I'll be home a little later than usual tonight," she stood from her chair and grabbed her purse from the counter,"You can make your own dinner tonight, right?"

"Sure mom," I said. Yeah, dinner. As if. Mom smiled at me, the small wrinkles around her mouth deepening when she did so. She sauntered towards the door and shut it behind her.

I sighed and glanced at the clock chiming away on the kitchen wall. It was 6:40. It's probably be a good idea to wait outside for Dylan to show up. I stood up and put my now empty mug in the sink. Grabbing my backpack, I went outside and relaxed a little before a loud honk signaled that my ride was here.

Bag in hand, I walked down the pavement and entered the car. To my pleasant surprise, he was playing Nine Inch Nails. "You've got good taste in music," I said as buckled myself in. Dylan smiled and thanked me, then began the drive back to Eric's house. When we got there, Eric was already waiting. He was wearing sunglasses and rubbing his forehead.

"How you doing there Reb? You look like shit man," Dylan joked when he slipped into the backseat of the beat up Honda. "Shut up V," the hungover boy grumbled,"Just drive." I turned to look at him,"Yikes. Is the poor baby grumpy?"

"Shut the fuck up, you left me passed out on the tile!" I scoffed and twisted back around again. "At least we know who can handle their booze and who can't."

The ride was fairly relaxed, with light conversation between the three of us, though it was mostly between the two boys.

We were at the school within minutes, and I leaped out of the vehicle as soon as it parked. "Hey thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it," I gratified while slinging my heavy backpack onto my shoulders. "No problem," Dylan smiled,"You need one back too?"

I shook my head,"That's nice but I have ballet after school today. It's only a fifteen minute to the studio from here." Eric questioned while the two got out of the old car,"You sure? This is a special one time offer, get it now while it's still hot."

My chest vibrated with a small chuckle. "Well, do you want to wait around in a small room surrounded by dance moms for four hours?"

"Four hours?" The two boys simultaneously said, not believing what I'd told them. I nodded,"Yep. Four hours on Tuesday and two on Thursday." Their jaws hung open in disbelief. "Yeah, so I'll be walking."

I trudged off toward the door, thanking them once again for the ride before stepping inside the building. Immediately a feeling of dread washed over me. God, I hate this place. With my head down, I made the quick trip to my locker, and then went to my first class.

First period was hell, second was too. I had creative writing in third, so thankfully that okay. Fourth was probably the worst, I was in a class with the resident bitches after all.

Then was the worst class of all, though it wasn't really a class; lunch. I drug my feet towards the cafeteria and sat alone at a table by the window. I'd hoped that I wouldn't be bothered today but the thought was diminished minutes later when an old friend sauntered over at slung an arms around me.

"Hey Scar!" She said loudly, her blonde hair bouncing slightly when she sat down. "Hey Nicole,"I said quietly. We hadn't seen each other since the end of junior year.

Her hair that had been shoulder length in March was now down to her waist and curled slightly. Her gothic attire matched mine but her posture was more relaxed. Not only that, but her atmosphere and attitude seemed to state "I'm adorable but I'll bite your damn head off". "How you been? I didn't see you yesterday."She questioned, a goofy grin on her face.

I smiled a little bit, it was hard to be mopey around her. "I'm okay. I ditched after lunch yesterday. Done with this place already," I responded with a sarcastic tone in my voice. Her head shot up a little up in interest. She perched her chin on her palm,"Really? What'd you do?"

"Funny story. This guy I ran into as I was leaving found out that we liked the same music and invited him to get smashed with his friend. Where they got all that alcohol, I will never know," I explained with a small chuckled. "Really?" She asked,"Who were they?" I looked around the room and my eyes landed on them sitting at a table a couple yards away from mine.

I pointed at the boys,"Them. The tall one is Dylan and the one that looks like Peter Murphy is Eric. Don't know their last names though." Nicole sneered a little bit. "Why don't you go and hang with them? You said they like our music, you should invite them to the club!"

I shrugged at her statements, and stared at the table. "Maybe." She seemed to have filled her quota of lunchtime conversation and left me alone for the rest of the period. Soon the bell rang and I headed out to my next class.

I was fairly early so the room was empty so I took the first seat I saw by the window. I watched as the rest of the class filled up and to my pleasure, people sat in front and behind me, but not next to me. Perfect, less dickery to deal with.

Our teacher, and elderly man with a potbelly and thinning hair walked into the too and introduced himself as Mr. Gist. He began to call role and stopped on a kid named Dylan Klebold. He kept calling it out but no one answered back. He began to mark him absent when a student ran through the door. Mr. Gist paused and spoke,"Ah, Mr. Klebold, very kind of you to join us. Take a seat please."

I turned to look at this kid, and it was Godzilla himself, his cheeks red with embarrassment. The same Dylan that I'd gotten drunk with last night. The only other seat open was next to me, so he stalked over quietly and pulled out a seat.

"Well hello there Mr. Klebold, nice to meet you,"I joked quietly. He turned, still blushing and smiled. Time passed slowly but eventually class was over. "So that's when I told her,'we were just doing homework mom!'" I joked with Dylan as we walked out.

He laughed,"I think my mom would murder me if I pulled something like that." I smiled at him and turned to go to my locker. "Hold on," he interjected. He grabbed a small piece of folded paper. I raised an eyebrow at him and looked at it. "It's my AOL chat name. The one beneath it is a group chat I have with some other friends. You can join it if you want," he said quickly.

I smiled and thanked him and walked to my locker. I guess school doesn't suck all the time.


	4. Chapter Four

_September 3, 1998._

 _I guess things could be worse. Peers are still major jack-wagons, and school still sucks major dick, but it's easier to manage when you've got some people to hang out with. This year it isn't just Nicole. I've been hanging out with Eric and Dylan more and more, and they seem like really cool people. Anyways, I gotta motor. Gonna go hang with Dylan, and by hang I mean go do math homework and drink shit._

I shut the journal and jumped off my bed. I was already a few minutes late so I had to rush out the door. I grabbed my bag on the way and shouted to my mom,"I'm headed out, I'll be back later."

"Be back before curfew," she said nonchalantly, not paying much attention to me. I nodded to myself and quickly strode out of the house. Dylan lived on the same street so the walk was short. I'd never been to his house, but he told me to just look for the house under the "big ass rocks" as he put it. I'd stopped once my eyes landed on a house that fit the description, and knocked on the door.

Moments later, a tall woman opened the door. She was fair skinned and had long brown hair framing her smile. "Hello dear, you must be Dylan's friend!" I nodded,"Yes, my name's Scarlett. And I'm guessing you're Mrs. Klebold?"

She nodded and motioned for me to come inside her home. It was quite homely and smelt like lemon cleaning polish. The wood floors creaked slightly as I stepped beneath them, but that didn't compare to the thundering that came from the upstairs floor. "Mom!" a voice called down from the second floor,"Is Scarlett here?" She cupped her hands around her lips and called out to the voice,"Yes Dylan, come down and be good host."

Loud footsteps echoed from above and down stomped Dylan, carrying a can of Dr. Pepper in his right hand. Our eyes met and we smiled at each other in a friendly manner. "Dylan," his mother began,"be a good host and get her something to drink. And what did I tell you about shoes in the house?" Mrs. Klebold scolded her son.

Dylan rolled his eyes jokingly,"Yes mom. Scar, the kitchens this way." He motioned for me to follow him. "Nice meeting you, ma'am!"

I followed him into the kitchen and sat my bag down next to the wooden breakfast table. "What do you want to drink?" I glanced up at Dylan, who was now standing by the fridge with a glass in hand."Well what do you have?"

"Let's see," he opened the door and trailed off,"We have water, obviously. We've also got tea, lemonade and Dr. Pepper." I thought for a moment before deciding on the soft drink. "Dr. Pepper sounds great!"

"You've got good taste in drinks my friend."

He poured the drink and sat the glass on the table in front of me. I took a sip and felt the cool buzz of carbonation slip down my throat. Perfect. I set the cup back down and opened my backpack up. I rummaged for a moment and found my math homework. "Where's your stuff?" I asked Dylan who I'd noticed hadn't brought anything to the table with him.

"Oh shit that's right. I'll be right back!" He said and sprung up from his seat. "Language young man!" I joked. "Very funny mom!", Dylan shouted back. He came back downstairs a minute later with his math notebook in hand and we began to work on our homework. Needless to say, we both sucked at it. Like, badly.

"This is absolutely bs!" I groaned and threw my pencil down on the table. Dylan nodded his head in agreement and groaned with frustration. "Maybe we should just take a break for a little bit. Clear our heads," he suggested.

"Good idea," Mrs. Klebold said as she walked into the kitchen,"You can help me cook dinner." Dylan moaned in annoyance,"Mom you know I can't cook. I can barely make a bag of popcorn!" She scoffed at her sons stubbornness.

"I can help you make dinner if you want ma'am,"I spoke up, turning to face the older woman standing by the sink. She smiled, the wrinkles around her mouth creasing as she did so. "Oh dear, you're too kind, but I don't think that'd be necessary." I stood up and walked next to her.

"I love to cook! I'm sure having another set of hands on the job would help speed up the process a bit, yeah?" I said. Mrs. Klebold sighed,"I suppose. I'm making sesame chicken. Do you know how to brown chicken?" She asked me while getting out a pan. She went over to the refrigerator and pulled out raw chicken breast and handed them to me.

"Good choice mom," Dylan chimed in from the table. Dylan's mom turned to me,"We'll have to make some extra for that boy. He has the appetite of three people. My, one time he ate an entire bucket of fried chicken by himself in one sitting!" I laughed a little.

"How is it that you can eat all that and still be that skinny? It makes no sense!" I asked Dylan while placing the chicken in the pan. He grinned and shrugged,"Luck I guess? I dunno, but I've got lots of room for food!" I rolled my eyes.

"Well where does it all go? You're so little in the middle!" I joked and Dylan laughed. "I wish I could eat that much and still be super small,"I said, masking it at as a joke. "Oh please,"he started,"You're plenty skinny."

I didn't respond. He's lying. I know he's lying, but it's okay. I'm just average. I flipped the chicken and found Mrs. Klebold preparing the marination in a bowl. I made small talk with her as we finished making dinner. Dylan set the table and Mr. Klebold joined us eventually.

Grace was said and conversation was made. "So Dylan," said Mr. Klebold,"I don't believe you introduced me to your little girlfriend." Dylan just about choked on his chicken. "Tom!" Mrs. Klebold scolded. He shrugged while Dylan coughed and sputtered. I laughed. "You okay there Dyl?" I asked between giggles.

He took a moment to compose himself and said,"She's my friend, Dad. Jesus..."he trailed off, his hand awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. I turned to his father. "My name is Scarlett, Mr. Klebold." I held out my hand across the table and he shook it politely.

"Wonderful to meet you Scarlett. I'm glad to see Dylan is making new friends." Dylan's face turned bright red. "Dad,"Dylan said quietly,"Not right now." He nodded at his son and took a bite out of his food.

I watched as everyone dug into their dinner and then stared down at my plate. My stomach ached for the warm chicken. I didn't even like chicken, but I had skipped breakfast and only ate an orange at lunch today. I swallowed my saliva and ignored it. I'll just make some green tea when I get back home and I'll be okay.

Eventually it was time for me to go home, so I thanked the Klebolds for having me and said goodbye. "See you in class Gigantor,"I called to Dylan as I left from the front door.

"See you later short bus!" He called back. I smiled and blushed. "I should hang with him more often," I thought as I walked from his house. A warm buzz filled my chest where the hunger was.


End file.
